


Kill Every Motherfucker (Get Fucked Up)

by thorkiship18



Series: Wincest Poems [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Bottom Sam Winchester, Brother/Brother Incest, Character Death, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester in Love, Incest, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Murder Family, Serial Killer Dean Winchester, Serial Killer John Winchester, Serial Killer Sam Winchester, Sibling Incest, Top Dean Winchester, Twink Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-30 11:13:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11462406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorkiship18/pseuds/thorkiship18
Summary: Enter the madness of the Winchester Family. Those who enter their house, never come out alive...





	1. Pussy Liquor

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a shit ton of Rob Zombie songs and movies! ❤ (Updates Bi-Daily!)

Henry had a baby, John was his name. Wild as a dog, totally insane. John loves the girls, young and clean, down 'am in a bucket of gasoline.

John had a baby, Sammy was his name. He knew he was crazy, Dean was the same. Down behind the shed, slaughtering the hog, slice along the belly, feed it to the dog.

Sammy loved to play, sweet little thing. Pour salt along the wounds, he knew it would sting. Dean would play along, laughing at the pain, all while avoiding Grandpa's glare and cane.

John was aware something wasn't right, when he heard strange noises all throughout the night. When Sammy turned sixteen, he caught him with Dean, on his knees, looking so serene.

Dean smiled at John while giving Sammy's mouth a plow, "Baby Boy's doin' great, he's a man now."

Sammy gazed at John the entire time, eyes set in a firm line. He wanted him to see how much he enjoyed it, how much he enjoyed Big Brother's dick.


	2. Teenage Nosferatu Pussy

Cass was a good man, young and smart. He loved his girlfriend, Meg, full of heart. They came across a shop along the road in the middle of the night, it was nothing special, not even the best sight.

The man at the counter looked dazed, wizened and old. The stare he gave Cass was quite cold. His name tag said Henry, that much was seen. Next to him was an old photograph with the name "Dean".

Relative, perhaps? Likely. Cass is thrown from his trance at the man's light taps.

"Buy or get out." The old man said, angry for some reason. "You've had me waiting for a whole season! Kids today should be beat" He just yells from his seat.

The couple bought their good, leaving in a huff. Cass wasn't about to call the man on his bluff. They drove down the empty road smiling at old tales in kind, unaware of the two brothers trailing behind.

****

"Wakey, wakey." Sammy grins, running the knife down Cass's face. "I'm gonna carve you up, and never leave a trace!"

Cass screamed, recalling the events of last night. A boy and his brother in a bind, in a plight. He graciously offered his help, smiling wide. When he least expected it, they seized him and all hope died.

Now, he sits bound in a chair, staring at a sweet boy. The kid from last night who has a mighty sharp toy. Cass screams, looking to his right. There she is, Meg's mutilated body in the sunlight.

"Hush hush, my sweet." Sammy coos, kissing his tears. "I will alleviate all of your fears."

Cass shook wildly, scared breathless. "Let me go, please! I won't tell anyone of this mess!"

Sammy stopped, face fully of pity. He put his hands on his hips. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

Unable to answer quickly, Sammy slashed at his flesh, giggling deeply at the blood pouring from his chest. Cass screamed and yelled, begging for release. None of it mattered to Sammy, who never, ever ceased.

Finally, he was dead, drenched in crimson. Sammy licked the blade clean, smirking like a real life villain. Dean walks in, bloody as well. He grabs Sammy for a kiss; he's ready to fuck, he can tell.

"One, two, three, who should I kill?"

Sammy responds. "Every motherfucker runnin' up the hill."

"One, two, three, what should I do?"

"Get fucked up, and fuck up you."


	3. Dragula

_Dead, I am the one, exterminating son._

Dean carves his initials into the young woman's chest, cackling and grinning.

_Slipping through the trees, strangling the breeze._

Sam stalks his prey through the woods, taunting them in a sing-song voice. The voice of a wolf in sheep's clothing.

_Dead, I am the sky, watching Angels cry._

Dean shouts, tussling with John for the umpteenth time for fondling Sammy, his property.

_While they slowly turn, conquering the worm._

Henry walks up to the chair in which the man is bound, aided by his youngest grandson, knife in hand.

_Dig through the ditches, and burn through the witches._

Sammy grabs a hold of the sheets, moaning like a whore for his big brother. Dean pounds into him furiously, bruising his hips.

_I slam in the back of my Dragula._

_Dead, I am the pool, spreading from the fool._

The woman fights back, striking Sammy in the face. Enraged, Dean beats her to death. No one hits his Baby Boy.

_Weak and what you need, nowhere as you bleed._

John takes a look at his selection. A woman with a mutilated face, and another with a broken leg. He unbuckles his pants, making a choice on who he screws, and who dies.

_Dead, I am the rat, feast upon the cat._

Sammy enters a bar, dressed in the shortest of shorts and shirts. He eyes his prey; cherry red lips pouting. The man's a big one, but the bigger they are, the harder they fall.

_Tender is the fur, dying as you purr._

Henry sits, patting Sammy on the head. He brought home a good kill. His favorite grandkid, unlike that degenerate, Dean. Fucking bastard.

_Dig through the ditches, and burn through the witches. I slam in the back of my Dragula._

_Dead, I am the life, dig into the skin._

Dean resumes his pushups, taking note of the woman watching him at the gym. He smirks at her. How would it feel to run his knife along her beautiful face?

_Knuckle crack the bone, twenty-one to win._

She almost got away, but Sammy got her. He threw that knife right in her back with expert precision. Dean fucked him good after that.

_Dead, I am the dog, hound of Hell you cry._

John licks his lips hungrily at Sammy. The boy only smirks. Tease. Dean is always close by, just waiting to pounce. That's Daddy's Boy.

_Devil on your back, I can never die..._


	4. Sick Bubblegum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of my poems rhyme, some of them don't. This is one of those that don't.

_We all know how we're gonna die, Baby. We're gonna crash and burn._

Saturday night.

He's got no plans. The glass sits in his hand. He takes another shot, drowning away the sorrows of yesterday's past.

Rick signals for the bartender to keep going, to keep serving him drink after drink, shot after shot.

It's pitiful, this place. Nearly empty save for a few other dickhead losers who would rather drink their problems away. They've most likely been frequenting this place for long years.

He spends an hour in there, pleasantly buzzed. All of a sudden, someone sits next him. Rick side-eyes the patron, features coming into brief view.

This here ain't no man, but a boy. A slender, long legged, skimpy dressed whore. Rick turns to him fully, feeling the attraction grow. The way this boy is dressed means he's here to party. He's chewing gum; he blows a bubble, then pops it.

"Hey, Baby." Rick grins. The alcohol is taking effect. "What's a little thing like you doin' in a grown up place like this?"

The boy turns to him, giggling with huge dimples. He nods to the bartender who chuckles in response. He must frequent this bar. "No boy here, sir, not with the way I do business."

The looks he's giving, the shape of him, the length of his limbs. Beautiful, like a soft, white rose among red ones. His lips are glossy, and he looks to be wearing eyeliner. Prissy little bitch, huh?

"Little young to be drinking, ain't ya?"

"You know, I like to get fucked up."

"Yeah, I like to get fucked up too."

"Yeah, I bet you do. I'm Sammy. Wanna get outta here soon?"

Rick gazes at the kid strangely. He's not particularly into guys, let alone teen boys...but Sammy is something else; there's something hypnotic about him.

"How much?" Rick asks.

Sammy downs his drink in one gulp. Damn. "Free of charge, Stud."

****

They walk.

Walking among the path to nowhere in the darkened forest.

The liquor hits Rick hard; his head is swimming, yet he's still in charge of his basic motor functions. Sammy is beside him, holding onto his arms as he wobble on both legs.

He doesn't know where they are, nor does he actually care. All Rick knows is that he's getting some ass tonight. Some young, tight ass. Just then, Sammy stops them, snatching Rick's keys from him, a playful and mischievous smile touches his soft features.

The boy takes off into the dark, prompting Rick to chase after him. That's okay. He loves it when people play hard to get. He's been on this earth for 45 years, and he's never had to fight this hard to fuck anyone.

Rick wills himself to run, to sober up more so he can catch the little fucker. He finally does, and wrestles the boy down onto the forest floor. Sammy only struggles mildly under Rick, who pins his hands above his head.

"I hope you like it rough, Baby. I'm not going easy on you."

Sammy giggles once more. "He's not gonna like that."

"Who?"

Dead.

It's all over so quickly.

Dean grabs the man by his hair, exposing his neck, then slices open his jugular. The blood streams from the wound, and all over Sammy's clothes. Dean allows Rick's body to fall, and helps Sammy to his feet, caressing his cheeks.

"My Sammy," Dean growls. "Mine."

Sammy grabs him for a hard kiss, smearing the blood on his big brother's clothes. "Yours. Only yours."

_Chew it up, spit it out, Sick Bubblegum..._


	5. American Witch

_This is a journey back to fear, guilt, anxiety..._

Henry wakes up in the morning, drunk as a skunk. He hears the sound of a child laughing. His own kid. John. That little fucker.

He makes his way into the kitchen, seeing his whore of a wide cooking breakfast. She sleeps around, he knows it. Where else is the extra money coming from?

John stops giggling as Henry steps foot into the place. All life stops when he's around. It's funny, except when it's not. No one likes Henry, and he doesn't care. He has ways of getting rid of his aggression.

As he sits down, John gets up, exiting the kitchen. This attitude, this fucked up little bastard is gonna be the death of him. Henry shouts, sweeping everything onto the floor.

_Black dog dying on the weather vain, The Devil's in a cat and the baby's brain._

Henry snaps one day, coming home from work. He finds John watching cartoons, yet his wife nowhere to be found. He asks John, but the boy only says upstairs.

_Alone on the hill, and ready to die._

He discovers his wife with another man in their marital bed.

_Cancer of darkness - blacken eye._

Henry slaughters them both in a bloody rage. He considers killing John too, but the boy looks up at him with hopeful eyes before snatching away the knife to stab his still breathing mother in the heart.

"The End...of The American Witch." He laughs.

****

Henry looks back on that day as a fond memory as he strangles a young man to death. That way the day he and John finally started to bond. It was also the day he taught the boy everything he knew about killing.

Sammy skips up to his grandpa in those provocative clothes. Personally, Henry finds it odd that his favorite grandson would occasionally wear women's clothes, but it apparently helps lure in the big men.

"Do you wanna know where their dreams come from?" Sammy asks, kissing his granddaddy on the cheek.

Henry shrugs. "Some showed their faith, and some showed none."


	6. Living Dead Girl

_Who is this irresistible creature who has an insatiable love for the dead?_

Sammy stalks the girl and her friends through the store, bored. That's when she spots him, feet glued to the floor.

He's been following her for days, Becky is her name. She's kinda pretty, young and tame.

He blushes from her gaze, unsure how to feel. He rushes out of the shop, making a sort of girlish squeal.

Finally the days comes when he and Dean snatch them up, make them scream, make them buck. All four girls shrieked in distress, except Becky, not even making a mess.

Sammy separated her from her friends, slowing getting to know her. She was anticipating the attack, not even a moment slower.

"Do you like me?" Sammy laughed, twirling his knife.

"I do!" Becky smiled. "More than I do my own life."

Sammy cut her loose, giving her his extra tee. "I'm gonna take you somewhere to prove it to me."

He lead her by the hand to where her friends were kept. They all screamed, they all wept. Sammy gave her the knife, grinning with glee. He was prepared for what he was anout to see.

Sure enough, Becky proved him wrong. She killed her friends while even singing a song. Dean came down, furious at her work. But Sammy stopped him with a small smirk.

It was evident that Becky liked Sammy, as a girl would a boy. However, he liked her as a friend, maybe even as a toy. A fool that is merely a tool.

They allowed her to leave, unharmed unlike most. Sammy was sure she'd never tell, never boast. Dean hugged Sammy close, whispering in his ear, watching her leave from afar.

"What are you thinking about?"

Sammy smiles, taking out his gun, and pointing it at Becky's back. "Same thing you are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bye bye, Becky!


	7. The Devil's Rejects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell doesn't want them.  
> Hell doesn't need them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't a poem, just a story! 
> 
> Thank you guys once again for reading. This was a fun little project to work on!

Sammy sits on the front porch, picking at the loose strings on his cut up shorts. He's bored. John and Dean are fighting over him again, and Henry is over at the store, presumably luring in fresh meat. This is all he's ever known: Kill, Fuck, and Kill again. It's not at all bad, but when there's nothing to murder, it does get quite tiresome around here, especially out in the middle of nowhere.

He takes out his cell phone, looking through the dating app he's downloaded days back. It helps a lot more than trying to pic up a guy at a bar, though he hasn't given that up yet. No, this app just makes it easier for his prey to come to him. Sammy swipes left and right, depending on which guy catches his eye.

"Hello there." He grins, finding the perfect specimen.

It's a man in his mid-twenties. Kyle. Well groomed, college graduate with a love for action movies and twinks. Jackpot. Sammy favorites him before typing a short message. He's gotta hook him in quickly before some other thirsty boy comes sniffing around him. With a few more taps on the touchpad keyboard, the message sends. Sammy waits patiently, going over the events of the past few weeks.

He and Dean hunted down two girls who got the upper hand. It was stupid of Sammy to allow them to eat like normal people for an evening. Never again will he make that mistake. It wasn't as bad as John's mistake though. Oh no, John's was worse. He knows how much Dean loves Sammy, and how he has a strict "No Touch" policy for the boy.

Well, John didn't get the memo it seemed. He cornered Sammy in the bathroom, placing hot, open mouthed kisses on his neck. Sammy didn't turn him away, oh no. He encouraged John to kiss him deeply, knowing what his big brother would do. Dean found them though, and began brawling with John. After that...well, Dean took Sammy back to their room for a last minute fuck. Anything to reclaim his boy. 

The phone chimes suddenly, making Sammy look down. It's a message from Kyle.

_Hey. Wanna hang out?_

Sammy smirks.

_**Pick the time and place, hon. I'm always eager to play.** _

Kyle soon sends his address over the phone. Sammy grins triumphantly, pushing himself off the step.

"I'll be home late," He yells over his shoulder, still grinning. "I'm going Huntin' tonight..."

****

This is awful.

A fucking bloodbath!

Detective Benny Lafitte kneels down next to the body of 26 year old Kyle Johnson. Jesus! Well, what's left of him anyways. He's been butchered, but perhaps brutalized before that. This isn't a coincidence. It has to do with all those people going missing around these parts.

He takes a look around the man's apartment, trying to find anything peculiar. Benny scoffs. This guy was a neat freak. Good luck trying to find a speck of dust in this fucking place. And everything's so damned organized! However, something catches Benny's eye. A cellphone. An obvious clue. He unlocks the phone without any problems, and scrolls through until he sees texts from another individual.

Sammy W. 16.

Hmm. Looks like if Kyle were alive, he'd have to take him directly to jail for sexting a minor...but Benny needs to investigate this further. By himself. He doesn't work well with others, and in order to regain is tarnished pride and restore his reputation, he's gotta solve this case by himself. It's all connected.

It's gotta be.

****

Sammy claws at Dean's back in ecstasy as his big brother fills him up with his hot load. This is the 4th time in a row. God, every time he thinks the man is done with him, he surprises him at the last second with another round. Dean rolls off him, grabbing a discarded shirt from the floor to clean them off. Sammy smiles at him, curling up into his arms. He loves Dean so much.

"Do you think we'll be together forever?" Sammy whispers, feeling slightly melancholic.

Dean frowns down at him. "I swear on my life and lives of those bastards I've killed that we'll always be together. If I get caught, I'll break out and come back for you. We'll go on the run."

"Like Bonnie and Clyde?"

"Just like Bonnie and Clyde, Baby Boy. Gimme a kiss."

Sammy doesn't hesitate in the slightest. He lifts his head up until his and Dean's lips are touching. They try to deepen the kiss, but loud knocking on the front door interrupts them. They look at each other. Who the fuck is that? Sammy hops out of the bed, quickly putting on clothes; doesn't matter whose. Dean does the same, following him down the stairs. John stands by the door, Grandpa Henry too.

John opens the door, and the family is greeted by a scruffy looking man on their doorstep. He's fuckin' hot! Dean senses Sammy's attraction, and puts his arm around his waist.

"Uh, Hello," says John. "May we help you?"

The man pulls out a badge. Shit, he's a goddamn cop! "Detective Lafitte. I'm here to question a member of your household. Is there a 'Sammy' here?"

"That'd be me, Officer." Sammy smiles wide, pushing past Dean. He grabs the man's hand, pulling him in. "Come in, don't be shy, Honey! I don't bite too hard."

****

Benny excused everyone else from the living room so he could have a chat with...Sammy. Wow. He's dressed...wow. Who allows their 16 year old to dress like they're going to turn tricks on a street corner? It seems only John Winchester. Hell, even the boy's grandfather could've said something, but I guess not. Benny adjusts himself discreetly. Sammy's looking at him like a meal, and truth be told, it's a little hot. It's completely wrong, but it's still hot.

"I'm just gonna ask you some questions, okay?" Benny clears his throat.

Sammy smiles. "Fire away, Sugar."

"Okay. Uh, do you know a man named Kyle Johnson, by chance?"

"I do!" Sammy answers enthusiastically. "Oh, I remember Kyle! He was so sweet, a real gentleman. I liked his apartment."

Benny grimaces. This changes everything. "Were you...with him recently?"

"Sure was. Two night ago."

That's precisely how long his body's been there.

"He's dead." Benny deadpans. "Kyle was found murdered in his apartment this morning."

"Oh, I know that, Hon." Sammy says with a sweet smile. "I did it. All by myself. Lemme tell you, it wasn't easy."

Holy Shit.

To speak so candidly about murdering another person...Benny doesn't know if Sammy's telling the truth or just playing sick games. However, Sammy's sickening grin tells him all he needs to know: This boy is far from innocent. Benny stands, taking out his silver handcuffs.

"Sammy...I have to take you back with me to answer more questions. You just admitted to killing a man."

But the boy laughs. He crosses his legs sensually where he's seated. "I'm not goin' anywhere, and neither are you."

Without warning, Benny feels a blunt object strike the back of his head. He goes down without a word.

****

When he next opens his eyes, he sees the Winchester Family cackling amongst themselves over the dinner table. Sammy helps feed his grandpa while Dean and John point their steak knives at each other. It seems like a typical, American family dinner, yes? No. These people are sick. Benny tries to move, but he finds that he's bound to a chair.

Sammy takes notice, picking up his own knife. He walks over to him, running the blade down his neck. "Gosh, you're so handsome. What a waste."

"You'll be sorry." Benny tries getting through to him. "You will. Killing a cop? That's serious jail time. You'll never get away with this."

"That's cute." Henry laughs. "You really think you're the first cop to sit there, saying those same words?"

Benny's face turns pale.

"More like the 10th." John chimes in.

"12th." Dean corrects, eating his steak.

Seeing no way out, Benny starts to struggle in his bonds. "HELP! HELP ME! SOMEBODY--AHH!"

Sammy slams the knife into the cop's leg, and twists the blade around harshly. Benny screams in pain; there are tears that fall, but he is not concerned about that. He just wants to live, but he knows that his clock is running out fast. There's no hope of escape in this house. Who knows how many these people killed. Tens? Hundreds? Sick fuckers!

_Hell doesn't want them._

Sammy sits back down next to Dean, joining in on the family's conversation.

_Hell doesn't need them._

Benny continues to scream until his voice is raw and hoarse.

_Hell doesn't love them._

John laughs with his father, reminiscing on the old times.

_This world rejects them._

Sammy and Dean share a kiss, holding each other's hands under the table. Always together, never split apart.

_The Devil's Rejects._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for more surprises in the future!


End file.
